


Memory

by harcheonggai



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Humor, Love Triangles, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:21:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28273782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harcheonggai/pseuds/harcheonggai
Summary: Bellatrix has always had feelings for Voldemort, but when Dumbledore comes back into her life, she struggles to make sense of her true emotions. AU set in the present day, where Bellatrix and Voldemort aren't in Azkaban/dead. Chapter 4: Halloween at Hogwarts reminds Bellatrix of a gender reveal party she threw years ago...
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/James Potter, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Remus Lupin, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Severus Snape, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Voldemort
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

Bellatrix Lestrange felt a burning pain in her head. She opened her eyes. The sun, it was so bright, it made her want to throw up. She was lying in a flowerbed, out on the street.

“What happened,” she groaned.

Memory after memory swam in her mind, like kittens drowning in a swimming pool. She had been crying… then drinking… then crying… then drinking wine directly from the bottle… then crying… then doing shots… then…

“Oh, dear! The poor woman of the night!”

Bellatrix turned and saw a woman, unmistakably dressed in ugly colorful Muggle clothes and carrying a boring unmoving Muggle newspaper, ushering a small boy past her flowerbed.

“What a mess,” the woman was saying. “We must pity her. Don’t stare, Jimmy. Keep walking…”

Bellatrix felt a surge of rage. She was Bellatrix Lestrange, the greatest and most beautiful dark witch who had ever lived! “AVADA KEDAVRA!” she roared, pointing her wand at the Muggle woman. She fell down dead. The boy began to cry, which made Bellatrix’s head hurt more, so she killed him too.

She sat up slowly. She seemed to be in Muggle London, outside a Muggle pub. As she climbed out of the flowerbed, she stepped on something and almost went flying. It was the Muggle woman’s newspaper which she had so carelessly dropped as she died.

Bellatrix looked at the date printed on the newspaper. June 5th. “Oh shit!” she gasped. It was her beloved nephew Draco Malfoy’s eleventh birthday. The day he would receive word of his acceptance to Hogwarts. She was supposed to be at his birthday party in Malfoy Manor. But first, she had to buy him a present.

She needed to get to Diagon Alley, but she had no idea where in London her flowerbed was. A bright red double decker bus came to a stop across the street from Bellatrix. But she would not take the bus. Bellatrix Lestrange was not a pleb.

She would call an Uber.

There was a small, shiny rectangular box near the woman. Bellatrix recognized it as a Muggle mobile phone. Tapping it with a long, black nail, she brought the phone up to the corpse’s face and unlocked the phone’s face recognition lock. _Muggles were dumb but at least some weren’t as dumb as the others_ , she thought with something approaching begrudging respect, admiring their relatively advanced ingenuity, considering they all led boring unmagical lives. Moments later, a car pulled up and Bellatrix got in. He was a good driver. She gave him five stars. Then she murdered him too.

***

At the entrance to Diagon Alley, Bellatrix tossed the mobile phone into a corner. It clattered against a pile of other mobile phones from other deceased, unfortunate, previous owners. She had done this before and it was fast becoming her preferred mode of travel to Diagon Alley these days.

Bellatrix decided to buy Draco something age-appropriate and evil. So Bellatrix went directly to Borgin and Burkes. “I need the most evil thing you have,” she shouted. “It’s for a child!”

Borgin pointed a trembling finger at a goblet that was made of a human skull fixed on top of human bones. Bellatrix cackled with glee. She reached out a hand to grab it…

...only to grab hold of a pale hand that had gotten there first.

“Hello, Bellatrix,” a hissing, sexy voice said.

She looked at the pale hand, then up at the pale arm that connected to… “Lord Voldemort!” she breathed.

“Yes, it’s me!” Lord Voldemort said. “I do believe I have just found the perfect present for young Draco Malfoy’s birthday.” He chortled.

Bellatrix fumed. How dare he steal her gift? She saw it first! And yet.... Something about his sexy confidence made her weak at the knees.

It was a secret no one could guess, but Bellatrix had always been in love with Voldemort. And he had had feelings for her too…

“I see that you’re still wearing the dress you were wearing last night,” Lord Voldemort snickered.

Bellatrix blushed, flattered that he had taken notice of what she was wearing. Then suddenly, memories engulfed her…

FLASHBACK

“I’m ready, Voldie! How do I look?”

It was the night before, and Bellatrix Lestrange was showing off her dress to Voldemort in Black Manor.

She had chosen the dress herself from the finest emporium, and she had hoped he wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off her. It was a deep black, as black as midnight. Outside the window, there was not a sound from the pavement. Bellatrix peered up at the sky. Has the moon lost her memory? Bellatrix wondered. She is smiling alone...

Across from her, Lord Voldemort leaned against her dresser, sipping from a goblet of wine. “No,” he said. “You look like an uncooked chicken.”

Tears sprang to Bellatrix’s eyes. “What??!” she cried. “How could you say something so cruel to me?”

“I’m just trying to be objective,” Voldemort replied. “You can’t go out in that. It makes your arms look pale and gross and flabby.”

Bellatrix burst into tears. Crying, she ran out of Black Manor into the night.

She kept running until she reached an innocent-looking Muggle restaurant called The Little Cheeseburger. Sobbing, she entered. _“Cy… cystitis urinaria!”_ she sobbed, waving her wand.

A hidden panel in the back wall slid open to reveal another room. A sign above the door said _Slyfinger’s Sleepeasy (where good and evil witches and wizards meet to have torrid affairs)._ Bellatrix stepped through, grabbed the first drink she saw (not caring that it was in someone else’s hand), tossed it back, and went in search of this next one to try to forget the painful words the man she loved so passionately had said to her…

END FLASHBACK

A chuckle from Voldemort brought her back to the present. Oh how she loved that low, throaty rumble. “I didn’t mean that you actually looked like a chicken. That dress just makes your pale arms look fleshy and awkward. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to bring Draco’s birthday gift to the counter to be wrapped.”

“I’ll show you fleshy and awkward!!” Bellatrix roared, pulling her wand out and sending a curse flying straight towards Voldemort’s outstretched hand. Incensed and outraged, they began to duel furiously, stray spells ricocheting off their shields. Borgin whimpered and ducked under the counter to shelter from the maelstrom currently trashing his shop.

“CRUCIO!” Bellatrix and Voldemort yelled in tandem. Twin jets of light rebounded off silently cast shields and smashed into the skeletal goblet, destroying it utterly and coating them in a fine white powder. Bellatrix began coughing uncontrollably. Maybe now Voldemort would be moved by her suffering. He’d rub her back and hold her in his pale cold arms and...

“Now see what you’ve done!” Voldemort shouted. “What in Slytherin’s name am I going to give Draco for his birthday now?”

Bellatrix slowly turned around, surveying the damage. A flash of movement in the window caught her eye. A small house elf was hurrying past the store, unsteady under the weight of the jumbo box of Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans it was bearing. “I have an idea…” Bellatrix muttered.

***

“Happy birthday, dear Draco, happy birthday to you!” sang the gathering of Draco’s closest family and friends as he beamed at them. “I think you may open your presents now, Draco,” said Narcissa. Draco clapped his hands in excitement. He had counted thirty-seven presents on the table. Last year he only had thirty-six!

“Little Malfoy, felicitations on reaching such a milestone,” Voldemort smiled benignly and presented Draco with a big wrapped box. Draco tore into the wrapping eagerly. “Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans! A jumbo box! Aww, thanks Uncle Lord Voldemort! They’re my favourite!”

“Mine now!” Bellatrix elbowed a scowling Voldemort aside and dragged a large, lumpy and poorly wrapped package over to her young nephew. Narcissa glanced at her sister when she saw the gift and Bellatrix glared at her. “It may have been wrapped with zero percent artistry but it was wrapped with a hundred percent love.” Narcissa sniffed and looked away.

Draco ignored his mother and aunt and ripped the wrapping off. “A house elf!” shrieked Draco.

“Your house elf,” corrected Bellatrix, grinning maniacally.

“Bellatrix!” chided Narcissa. “We already have one hundred house elves, why did you get another one? Soon we’ll be overrun with little vermin!”

“No Mother, I love it!” squealed Draco.

The house elf blinked up at him, stood, and bowed shakily. “You is Boba’s new master?” it squeaked, casting a nervous glance at Bellatrix who glowered at it.

Draco drew himself up to his full height, which was above average for an eleven year-old. “Yes, I am Draco Lucius Malfoy, pure-blood son of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy.”

The elf bowed towards Lucius and Narcissa, and turned back to Draco. “I is Boba, Master Draco. I is pleased to be of assistance to you.”

“Dobby!” The house elf appeared with a loud _crack_.

“Yes, Mistress Narcissa?” it enquired timidly.

“This is Boba, Draco’s new house elf. You will train it until you deem it will serve Draco to a satisfactory standard. Torture it anytime you like. Never forget that it is an honor to work under harsh conditions for no pay in the fabulously wealthy and prestigious House of Malfoy!”

“Yes, Mistress Narcissa.” With another loud _crack_ , both elves disappeared.

A loud knocking sounded from the direction of the front hall, and everyone turned to see who the final guest was. Bellatrix felt her heart throb as soon as she caught sight of the twinkly blue eyes of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

FLASHBACK

Bellatrix had stopped sobbing violently after the eighth stolen drink and now felt a little ill. She hadn’t eaten anything other than a cube of cheese all day in order to fit into the dress. Not that it had really mattered after all.

“How about some Gillywater instead this time?” the bartender eyed her cautiously. The last time she came up to the bar she had stolen a half-empty bottle of Firewhisky and disappeared back into the crowd after he put it down to finish garnishing a drink.

“How’s about some hexes instead of Galleons this time?” Bellatrix hiccoughed in his general direction.

“But you didn’t pay for that bottle,” he whined.

“ _You_ didn’t pay for that bottle,” she slurred back. Ha ha ha! She was so witty!

“Two Gillywaters please, for myself and the lady.” A long-fingered hand clinked down some coins on the bar.

“Who do you think you are? I am Bellatrix Lestrange and nobody tells me what to drink,” she shot back at the hand with venom and promptly lost her balance.

The hand grabbed her arm and steadied her, and through sheer force of will, Bellatrix dragged her eyes up to face her would-be interloper.

_Merlin’s balls!_ she swore inwardly.

It was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

“Long time no see, Ms. Lestrange,” he greeted her warmly.

He handed her one the Gillywaters and gestured towards the roof.

“I could go for a couple of little cheeseburgers, if you’d like to join me?”

Bellatrix was dazzled. She looked deep into the bright blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore and saw someone who truly cared for her. She felt light-headed, remembering how she had had a crush on Albus years ago when he was her professor. To top it all off, he was a Gryffindor! She thought back to Voldemort’s earlier treatment of her and decided that she didn’t care about his opinion of her and her dress after all.

“Oh, Albus, I’d love to,” she gushed. Taking his hand, she allowed him to lead her upstairs to the false front that served real little cheeseburgers, The Little Cheeseburger.

On a greasy set of tables and chairs, in a booth on the rooftop away from prying Muggle eyes, Bellatrix and Albus bit into their cheeseburgers with relish (hers also had mayonnaise). She gazed soulfully into his sapphire eyes and felt her heart skip a beat as he looked back at her.

“Tell me, Bellatrix…” He murmured.

Her heart fluttered. “Yes, Albus?”

“I’ve always wondered… but I was afraid to ask before…”

She batted her eyelids at him. It gave her a mild headache but anything for Albus. “Yes?”

“You’re such a beautiful, clever, powerful witch, and I…” He swallowed. “I have to ask…”

“Ask me anything, Albus,” she crooned.

He took a deep breath. “Have you ever... gone twenty-four hours without killing a Muggle?”

“What!!??” Bellatrix was shocked. “I… I thought you…” Enraged, she drew herself up to her full height. “In fact, I have,” she said haughtily. “I have other pursuits and accomplishments, you know.”

Albus frowned. “In that case, you won’t mind if I…” He flicked his wand suddenly. “ _Priori incantatem!”_

Bellatrix’s wand flew out of her robes and clattered onto the table. The ghosts of previous spells she had cast floated up… along with echoes of her shrieking, _“Avada kedavra! Avada kedavra! Avada kedavra”_ Faces hovered in mid-air, faces of innocent Muggles she had murdered in the last few days. The mother and her son, Jimmy, the Uber driver… There were even more than she remembered.

“You lied to me, Bellatrix!” Albus said in a choked voice.

“I don’t bloody care about Muggles!” Bellatrix roared, suddenly feeling the effects of the many drinks she’d had. “I’ll kill them any bloody time I feel like it! But I had feelings for you, Albus! And this was how you treated me!”

Crying hysterically, Bellatrix ran down the stairs, cursing Muggles randomly as she ran.

“Wait!” Albus cried. “Bellatrix, wait! I wasn’t done talking yet! I was going to say… you may have lied to me and killed a thousand Muggles before breakfast, but it doesn’t matter to me! I love you! I’ve always loved you! Bellatrix! BELLAAAAAA!”

But it was too late. Bellatrix, his true love, had run crying out of earshot. As she ran, one of her garbled curses hit a stray white cat. The cat yowled and leapt into the air as the unknown spell took hold. Then it ran away. But Dumbledore wondered if he’d see that cat again. Somehow, it seemed somewhat significant…

As Bellatrix ran for the nearest Muggle pub, determined to drink as much as she could, she cursed her horrible luck with men. How did this keep happening to her? She would be alone, always alone…

_Memory, all alone in the moonlight_

_I can dream of the old days_

_I was beautiful then_

_I remember the time I knew what happiness was_

_Let the memory live again_

END FLASHBACK

“Ah, hello everyone, a pleasure to see you all, but I’m afraid I’m here on important Hogwarts business. Where is our birthday boy?” Dumbledore strode into the room, avoiding Bellatrix’s gaze, a faint blush colouring his cheeks.

“Here I am! Do you have a present for me?” Draco demanded.

Dumbledore smiled avuncularly. “Well, young man, in a manner of speaking, I do! I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I’m here to give you the one and only personal message I’ll be delivering in person this year: you’ve been accepted to Hogwarts! Congratulations!”

Immediately, Dumbledore was hit in the eye with an olive. The brine really stung.

“That’s not a real present!” Draco screeched, pelting one of the greatest wizards of all time with another olive. “You’re the worst person who’s ever attended one of my birthday parties!”

“Draco!” Bellatrix burst out angrily. “Don’t say things like that about Albus! He’s thoughtful and kind and sweet and charming and handsome and…” Suddenly she realized what she was saying in front of everyone and broke off, blushing bright red.

Albus turned to her, eyes shining. “Do you really mean that, Bellatrix?”

Bellatrix lowered her eyes, embarrassed. “Albus, I… I…”

“No, she doesn’t,” Voldemort burst out in jealous anger. “She thinks _I’m_ charming and handsome and wonderful. Don’t you, Bella?” He threw her a smouldering look. “And have I mentioned how ravishing you look in that dress?”

“I… I…” Bellatrix felt so confused, like a cat that has just figured out that it is not a dog. “I think you’re both wonderful. I… I… I’m in love with both of you!”

Albus gasped. Voldemort choked. Narcissa fainted and hit the ground with a sickening _thud_. Lucius had been too slow to catch her and ended up looking foolish clutching at thin air.

“MOTHER!” Draco’s eyes widened and he began hyperventilating, clutching at his throat and helplessly fluttering his hands at his father. Lucius also began to hyperventilate.

Albus puffed out his chest. “I love Bellatrix,” he declared. “With or without her Muggle-killing habit. I won’t see her going off with the likes of you, Voldemort!”

“Her Muggle-killing habit is her best feature!” Voldemort screamed back. “Along with her shapely and very attractive arms! I love her and I understand her far better than you ever would, you Muggle-loving cur. I challenge you to a duel!”

“I accept!” Albus shouted. He drew his wand. _“Angiodyspasia!”_ A jet of bright red sparks shot out of his wand.

_“Hematochesia!”_ Voldemort countered. Brown flames mushroomed out of his wand. As their spells collided, there was a huge explosion as the curses blew each other up. But the wizards continued dueling, destroying the drawing room of Malfoy Manor in the process.

_Crack_. “Petit four?” squeaked Boba, appearing suddenly with a tray of canapes. A stray curse zinged past her and part of the floor exploded and the hole started oozing out slugs.

“STOP,” yelled Bellatrix. “THIS IS SO AWKWARD BECAUSE WE ARE ALL RELATIVES AND DRACO IS JUST A CHILD!”

Draco had by now sunk to his knees in shock and Lucius was curled up in a ball on the floor weeping softly, having been hit in the face by a stray Stinging Jinx. Narcissa had actually roused from her faint but being by far the most intelligent Malfoy (since she was born a Black after all), she remained on the carpet pretending to be out cold.

“Truce?” Dumbledore was breathing heavily. Bellatrix couldn’t help but admire his taut chest, his dreamy physique, his strong hands and long fingers that gripped his trembling wand… How she longed to feel those fingers tangled in her hair...

Voldemort eyed him warily. “Truce.” His suave demeanor, his elegant reserve, his amazing talent for delegation… Bellatrix found herself wondering what it would be like to snog those thin, serpent-like lips that had come so close to hers before...

A loud _clang_ followed by a squeal and a _crack_ brought the three relatively functioning adults back to the present. Draco had kicked his new house elf who promptly dropped the tray of canapes and then Disapparated back to wherever the house elves stayed in Malfoy Manor.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. “Ahh, Draco, sorry about that. Yes, I’m so very sorry about this ahhh - misunderstanding and ahh - yes, so sorry. Have a lovely birthday Draco, ahh yes, so sorry. I ahh - have to - need to deliver more acceptance letters, so sorry for the intrusion. Thank you for having me. Ahhh, also, apologies for the mess Madam Malfoy,” he addressed the still prone Narcissa. He waved his wand and the slugs disappeared and the hole in the floor repaired itself.

Dumbledore threw one final, long, meaningful look at Bellatrix, who was perched on a sofa arm and had her head in her hands before Disapparating with a loud _crack_.

“I -” Voldemort made a gagging sound and coughed. “I -” He continued to gag for a few minutes until his Britishness came through and he managed to choke out something that vaguely sounded like an apology. “Now I ahh - need to go and uhh - just need to leave now...” he trailed off lamely. Voldmort stared at her for a long minute, then was gone with another _crack_.

Bellatrix sighed loudly and pulled the ashen boy close to her and kissed the top of his little blond head. “I need to head off too Draco, but you be a good boy and continue to mistreat that new elf of yours, won’t you?” She patted him on the cheek.

With a nod to Narcissa (who was now sitting against the sofa with a grumpy expression on her face) and Lucius (who turned to look away as his temporarily disfigured face became very red), she swept out of Malfoy Manor.

But as soon as she was out of sight, Bellatrix dropped her dignified demeanor and ran sobbing through the dark London streets until she ran right into an unsuspecting Muggle.

“ _Avada kedavra_!” she screamed and the Muggle dropped dead at her feet. Through glistening tears, she tore through the Muggle’s pockets for his phone and called an Uber. Twenty minutes and another dead Muggle later, she reached The Little Cheeseburger… to get drunk and cry her eyes out…

***

_Every street lamp seems to beat_

_A fatalistic warning_

_Someone mutters and the street lamp gutters_

_And soon_

_It will be morning_

...while Albus Dumbledore returned to his lonely office at Hogwarts, where he pulled out of hidden flask of something much stronger than Gillywater and sniffled quietly to himself all night as he nursed his broken heart for a love that could not be….

_Daylight_

_I must wait for the sunrise_

_I must think of a new life_

_And I mustn't give in._

_When the dawn comes_

_Tonight will be a memory too_

_And a new day will begin_

...and Voldemort, too, in a dark corner of a secret location, surrounded by bottles of moonshine, swigged and sobbed and thought of how once again, he had allowed the love of his life to slip out of his fingers…

_Burnt out ends of smoky days_

_The stale cold smell of morning_

_A streetlamp dies; another night is over_

_Another day is dawning_

...as hours later, Bellatrix found herself coming to consciousness once more in a familiar flowerbed, hungover and alone. When would she ever know true love?

_Touch me_

_It's so easy to leave me_

_All alone with the memory_

_Of my days in the sun_

_If you touch me, you''ll understand what happiness is_

_Look, a new day has begun._

***

Draco was on the train to Hogwarts, thinking about how much it sucked. He was Draco Malfoy, and he was used to better. He was offended that he had been forced to take a train with all these plebs.

A rattling noise distracted him from his thoughts. Ah, finally! It was the legendary Honeydukes Express trolley, always piled high with treats to feed the hungry masses… except that the trolley was passing his compartment without slowing!

“Excuse me!” he shouted, throwing his compartment door open. It banged hard against the jamb and he had to leap into the corridor to avoid being smacked in the face as it slid back towards him. “I’d like to get something from the trolley!” he huffed, crossing his arms angrily, not noticing that something seemed off.

“I’m sorry dearie, but the trolley’s been cleaned out today,” the plump, friendly witch pushing it stopped and smiled sadly at him.

“One of your little friends bought the lot,” she pointed down the corridor to another compartment. “I’m sure he’d be glad to share though!”

Draco was aghast. He was a pureblood, the product of the unholy union between the Blacks and the Malfoys. Draco Lucius Malfoy did not share, especially not with a jumped-up little prick who thought they could just buy up everything from the trolley. Draco had already finished the jumbo box of Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans three days after his birthday and was craving more, since Narcissa had banned him from eating them in the Manor after he threw up in a priceless vase that had been handed down through generations of the Black family, having accidentally eaten a kidney stone-flavoured bean. He scowled and retreated to his compartment.

As the trolley witch bustled off, a movement from the compartment across from him caught his eye. There was a girl sitting in there, and she turned to face Draco, as if she had felt his eyes graze over her profile. Pale skin - so pale as to be nearly translucent. Tumbling dark curls, and - Draco caught his breath. Her eyes. They were dark pools, enigmatic and unknowable, but their shape. So… Draco squinted. Almost… Feline… But surely not? Their eyes met and Draco nearly fell off his seat. Her _pupils._ Her eyes. They were not human in the slightest. They were most definitely feline… Like a cat… The girl dropped her eyes and turned to face her window.

A long shudder ran through Draco. It was most unusual. If you discounted the shape of her pupils, she reminded Draco of someone he knew… But who was it? Who was it???!

Draco spent the rest of the train ride trying to figure out who the girl reminded him of. The riddle bothered him all through the boat ride across the lake to the castle, all through the Sorting (he wasn’t concerned about that, he was a Malfoy, the Hat barely touched his head before Sorting him into Slytherin), and for most of the Start-of-Term Feast. It wasn’t until Professor Dumbledore stood up to give his welcome speech that Draco felt an electric jolt race through him.

“Auntie Bella,” he breathed. The girl reminded him of Bellatrix. Draco’s mouth went dry.

Something very strange was going on… Although he did not like to think about it, Draco knew deep down that his life had been forever changed the moment Bellatrix, Voldemort, and Dumbledore had gotten into a fight (for reasons he half-hoped he would never comprehend) at his birthday party. There must be more to come...


	2. Chapter 2

Bellatrix gazed up at the neon sign of The Hefty Burrito. Slyfinger’s Sleepeasy (where good and evil witches and wizards meet to have torrid affairs) was constantly changing its front so the Muggles would not be suspicious. Apparently Mexican cuisine was trending amongst the Muggles. Bellatrix didn’t care as long as some form of alcohol was served.

She entered and immediately spotted Narcissa, who had claimed a cozy corner booth and was perusing a laminated menu. 

“CISSY!” she shouted. The man behind the counter dropped the burrito he was holding and it splattered on the ground. Miserably, he started making another one. I must think of a new life, he thought sadly, and I mustn’t give in. When the dawn comes, tonight will be a memory too (it was only 11:49am). And a new day will begin. But for now, here he was with a burrito he couldn’t fold properly. He had put too much lettuce in it. A slow tear began to roll down his cheeks. What was the meaning of life?

Bellatrix slid into the booth and tried to give Narcissa a hug but her sister fended her off with the menu. “You have dried blood on your dress Bella. And I want to order now, I’m halfway through my cleanse and I’m starving.”

Bellatrix pouted. “I don’t see you for weeks, then you send me a hysterical Howler blubbering something about Draco and so I leave my top-secret, super important mission for the Dark Lord to see you, and I don’t even get a hug?” 

“No. Get me an extra spicy bean burrito, cheesy enchiladas, an arugula salad and a bottle of San Pell.”

Silence fell between the sisters once they were ensconced within their booth again with their food, as Bellatrix hacked the warm tortilla skin of her carnitas burrito open and began tearing into the insides like a vulture with a carcass. Narcissa alternated sniffing her extra spicy bean burrito and cheesy enchiladas as she picked at her arugula salad. Bellatrix shook her head. Narcissa was most definitely back on crack. This should be good. Narcissa was fun when she was on crack. But Narcissa on crack while on a diet? Unpredictable.

“So what’s -”

“I’m worried about Draco!”

Oh no. Crackhead/dieting Narcissa worried about the little blond snot was the antithesis of fun. Shame that Draco had inherited his father’s stormy grey eyes, pointy chin, and moral backbone of a chocolate eclair, and was thus so inherently easy to bully.

“Bella, you remember James Potter, don’t you?”

“James Potter?” There was a name she hadn’t heard in ages. “Of course I remember James Potter. In fact…” A memory hit her like a Mint Slice to the forehead. She remembered...

FLASHBACK

“James Potter, you absolute rotter!” Bellatrix howled like a banshee and hurled a Mint Slice towards the tall, slim boy with messy, dark hair trying to hide behind a couch in the Slytherin common room. 

The boy’s name was James Potter. He was a dashing Gryffindor who had snuck into the Slytherin common room. But more importantly, you may be asking, what in the wizarding world is a Mint Slice? A Mint Slice is, at first blush, very like a Thin Mint. Both have rich dark chocolate cookie bases covered by a sleek coating of decadent dark chocolate. But there the similarities end. The Mint Slice contains a subtle slick of mint icing, hugged between the crisp cookie bottom and the chocolate exterior; that icing is what takes these cookies to a whole new level.

The Mint Slice missed James, and instead hit...

“Good shot Black! Right in Snivellus’ face!” James roared with laughter and pelted another Dungbomb at Bellatrix, who blasted it out of the air a split second before it could hit her in the eye. 

She blamed Snape for all this. It was Snape’s fault for getting in the way and ruining her shot. Plus, stupid Snape and his stupid face and his stupid hair and his stupid brain had carelessly left the portrait concealing the entrance to the Slytherin common room wide open. At least Snape had paid for this transgression now - he was splayed out on the floor, having copped a Mint Slice to the forehead. 

“I meant to do that!” she screamed and continued throwing Mint Slices in the direction of the couch Potter was trying to hide behind. He laughed again, an easy laugh that Bellatrix found annoyingly charming. Merry brown eyes half-hidden under floppy hair met her furious gaze.

“Oh come on, Black, take the compliment,” he grinned.

“GET OUT OF HERE YOU INTERLOPER,” she snarled, but it seemed more and more likely that he would not budge so easily. She might possibly have to get physical with him.

Bellatrix stomped over to the ruined couch, intending to gut him with her empty plastic Mint Slice tray, but she found herself getting distracted by the way his eyes followed her every move. She could see his chest rising and falling, his breathing getting heavier as she got closer to him, and before she could begin her tirade, James Potter closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her. They snogged for hours…

END FLASHBACK

Bellatrix shook her head to rid herself of that unwanted memory of a moment of weakness. She had been on a break with Rodolphus, the idiot having annoyed her yet again, for something she couldn’t remember but which she was sure had obviously been a big deal. And everyone knew that while Potter was infatuated with the mudblood Lily Evans. But what happened between them that one time in the Slytherin common room - as Snape flailed on the ground, choking weakly on stray Dungbomb particles - it had been so real...

“Bella? Bella!” 

Bellatrix blinked and roused herself from the unwelcome memory. That was all it was. Just a memory…

Touch me

It’s so easy to leave me

All alone with my memory

Of my days in the sun

“As I was saying, Bella…” Narcissa attempted to draw herself up to her full seated height, but due to her low blood sugar and other self-induced chemical imbalances, swayed vaguely and slurred as she spoke. “Potter's son, Harry, bullies Draco terribly and is a horrid little gobshite to him on a daily basis! But Lucius has been banned from being on the grounds of Hogwarts for another fortnight because he accidentally set Hagrid’s hut on fire again, so he can’t go to check up on Draco…”

Bellatrix scowled as she sucked down her fourth strawberry margarita. If Draco couldn’t find the gumption to stand up for himself why should she waste her time on the spineless runt? She had better things to do with her time! Like murdering Mudbloods, for example! And abducting house elves! 

Undeterred by her sister’s complete lack of interest, Narcissa widened her baby-blue eyes and peered at her sister. “Pwetty pwease Bewwa?”

Bellatrix groaned internally. She could never say no to Narcissa when she called her that. It reminded her of when they were children and how Narcissa used to beg her to demonstrate the Unforgivable Curses on whichever unlucky house elf was scurrying by. 

“Fine, Cissy,” she glared at her. “But now I must complete the extremely important and secretive task the Dark Lord has set me.” Bellatrix turned up her nose at Narcissa’s gushing thanks and Apparated back to Blackpool where she had to finish torturing the silly man at the dodgems on the Central Pier who thought it would be a good idea to bump the car the Dark Lord was steering.   
\----------------------------------------------

Some hours later, Narcissa came to. She had passed out from hunger and had ended up face down into her salad. Weakly, she ate a small cube of cheese and waited to feel less woozy. This diet is the worst, she thought. Crack was so much better. It’s time I made some better choices in my life.

\----------------------------------------------

“Avada kedavra!”

A flash of green light and the Muggle collapsed at Bella’s feet. She cursed. Another pleb without Uber on their phone. How like Muggles to invent perfectly good apps and then refuse to use them on principle. She threw it at a passing car and stormed off in search of another unsuspecting Muggle on their phone.

A few hours later, seated in the backseat of an Uber on her way up to the Scottish Highlands, Bellatrix finally allowed herself to relax. A little. By only Confounding passing drivers of pink cars. But there weren’t too many pink cars, so she allowed herself a couple of red ones. She thought about Dumbledore, and a little shiver went up her spine. She would need to be fierce, and stern, and not allow him to get the better of her by toying with her reluctant affection for him. He was meaningless to her! Her heart beat only for her beloved Dark Lord, Voldie!

When the Uber arrived at Hogsmeade, she avada kedavra’d the driver and blasted the car into the Forbidden Forest. She was excellent at clearing her tracks. She shook her wild black curls and made her way up to the castle. Evening had fallen and Bellatrix knew that all the students would be in the Great Hall having dinner. The perfect time to sneak into the Headmaster’s office and hide, in order to surprise him and give him a big hug… Wait, no! She hated hugs! She was going to give him a piece of her mind! Well, Cissy’s mind! About Draco! She cursed and stupefied an owl that swooped a little too close for comfort.

\---------------------------------------------------

“Piss off, Malfoy!”

“You piss off, Potter!”

A glob of guacamole sailed over Hermione’s head toward s the Slytherin table. With her nose buried deep in Hogwarts: A History, she barely noticed when half a quesadilla came flying back towards the Gryffindors. It was on Harry if he thought starting a food fight with the first-year Slytherins was a better idea than doing extra research for Professor Binn’s essay. Hermione, on the other hand, had every intention of finishing the textbook tonight and getting a headstart on the essay, which was due in two months’ time. Then she could get started on Professor Quirrell’s essay on ghouls and poltergeists that was due at the end of term. Hermione sniffed and turned a page. You’d think those idiots would at least focus on learning something about their food instead of throwing it. It was Muggle Studies Week, and every day a different muggle food was being catered to the castle. Today’s meals had come from Chipotle, which Hermione disdained. She had always been more of a Taco Bell kind of girl.

With chaos reigning within the Great Hall, there was not a soul around to witness Bellatrix waltzing into the Courtyard and beginning to make her way towards Dumbledore’s office. But she had barely taken a step over the castle threshold when a thin, pale and clammy-looking man in a turban rushed past her, yelling incoherently. Bellatrix thought she vaguely recognised him, but then again, it was hard to tell one bland, pasty man from another these days. So unlike her darling Voldie. She would recognise his sharp, angular, snake-like handsome face anywhere...

But as this particular pale turbaned man rushed into the Great Hall, Bellatrix’s interest was piqued when she finally paid enough attention to him to make out the words he was yelling:

“TROLL! TROOOOOLL!!! TROLL TROLL TROLL TROLL TROLL!”

In the Great Hall a hush came over the students. A snotty-faced red-haired boy, yet another Weasley, Bellatrix surmised, was in the middle of waterboarding what looked like a very soggy and half-drowned young Crabbe with pumpkin juice, who immediately ceased his choking and gurgling. 

“TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!” Pasty Face shouted again into the silence. 

“Thought you ought to know.” He collapsed in a dead faint.

The Great Hall erupted in a mass of sound and activity. Some of the younger students began screaming and shouting, before McGonagall waved her wand and they all fell into the dishes, out cold. Draco reached for a dish, dumped the contents on the table in front of him and began sculpting rude figures out of sour cream. Potter brandished a squishy fistful of pico de gallo and the Weasley boy began waterboarding Crabbe again with a vengeance. Hermione chose to slide under the table to continue reading in peace. Leaving McGonagall to shout herself hoarse in an attempt to subdue the hordes, Dumbledore drifted towards the door with a nonchalant smile, delicately stepping over Pasty Face with Snape trailing close behind.

Uh oh. He was coming closer and closer to where Bellatrix was skulking by the door. She slipped out and hid behind the nearest statue. It was of her great, great, great, great, great-grandfather, Phineas Black. She patted the statue’s arm affectionately as Dumbledore strode past.

Dumbledore’s proud, Roman nose, and twinkly eyes were such a far cry from Voldemort’s profile, but nevertheless Bellatrix couldn’t prevent a soft sigh escaping from her lips as he turned down towards the dungeon. How could she have forgotten Dumbledore’s stunning good looks? Throwing what little caution she possessed to the wind, Bellatrix slipped out from her hiding spot and followed Dumbledore and Snape the overgrown bat down towards the dungeons.

“Humph,” Snape said. “I fail to see why it is we who are having to deal with this primitive creature. The students should be handling this. It would be very educational for them. When I was a -”

“Shut up, Snape,” said Bellatrix. Snape flinched at her sudden appearance but knew better than to question it.

“Hello, Bellatrix,” said Dumbledore pleasantly. “Ahhh, heading deeper into the dungeons with you, Bella, just like old times…” 

And as she watched Dumbledore continue striding into the dungeon ahead of her, a memory stirred in her mind…

FLASHBACK

“BELLATRIX!” Albus Dumbledore roared, as he strode into the dungeon wearing only a pair of boxers patterned with the Gryffindor insignia. His Head Boy badge was proudly pinned to the front.

“Albus!?” Bellatrix gasped. “Oh, you startled me!”

“What are you doing in the dungeon, Bellatrix?”

“I… I…” She hesitated. In fact, she had gone to the dungeon to weep alone. The most handsome Slytherin boy, Tom Riddle , had been her partner for their presentation on the uses of mandrake roots in potions class. She had hexed several students in order to be his partner (she could have just hexed one, but not knowing who Riddle’s original partner had been, she had cursed about twenty just to improve the odds). And he had completely ignored her yet again, even throughout the entire presentation. He was so handsome, and she was so heartbroken. There was nothing else to do but retreat to the dungeon with a flask of Firewhisky and a bottle of Butterbeer and a handle of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour vodka and…

“Actually, I know why you’re here, Bella,” Dumbledore said, lowering his voice dramatically. She couldn’t help but notice how sexy his voice lowering was… 

“Why?” she said breathily, not unaware of the strong scent of concentrated liquor on her breath. 

But Dumbledore didn’t seem to notice. “You’re here because you heard about… the chirping chonkmank.”

Bellatrix gasped. “The… what?”

“Yes,” Dumbledore continued darkly. “A tiny, vicious creature that escaped from the Forbidden Forest and made its way into the dungeon! You heard, and planned to slay the creature and claim the glory for your House! But so did I!”

He looked so magnificent and handsome as he spoke, even though Bellatrix scarcely knew what he was going on about. “What if…” she found herself whispering. “What if we slew it… together?”

Dumbledore cocked his head and looked at her strangely, like a horse that suddenly has something in one of its eyes. Then his expression slowly changed. He realized he had never in his life seen a girl as beautiful and brave as Bellatrix Lestrange. He felt… he knew… he loved.

“Yes, my Bella,” he whispered. “Together.”

Holding hands, extremely awkwardly, as both needed their right hands to hold their wands, they rounded the corner into the deepest part of the dungeon. In a corner, the chonkmank made a squeak. It was clutching part of a pumpkin pasty that looked like it had been swiped from dinner.

“Expelliarmus!” cried Dumbledore, twirling his wand through the air. The chunk of pumpkin pasty flew out of the chonkmank’s paws. “Stand back, foe! Bellatrix, don’t fear. I will approach by way of the southern-”

“AVADA KEDAVRA!” shouted Bellatrix. The chonkmank made a choking sound, seized up, and keeled over.

“Bella!” Dumbledore gasped. He was shocked. “That’s one of the unforgivable curses! I… I… I don’t know whether to report you or to…!” He charged forward and started kissing her frantically before his qualms could get in the way. While the corpse of their vanquished foe stiffened at their feet, they snogged for hours…

END FLASHBACK

Bellatrix gasped and clutched at the dungeon wall. The memory of Albus snogging her was so vivid, so magical. She noticed the dusty remains of chipmunk bones on the ground. It had happened right here!

“Dumbus… I mean, Ambledumbus, I mean, Dalbusdumbleseabassabore…” The memory of their dalliance was too much for her. She stopped walking, in an effort to concentrate on what she was saying. “Albus, darling, do you remember…”

“Eh?” Dumbledore said, turning around. “Wot?”

“Do you remember when you and I came here, to this very spot?”

“I….” His expression turned dreamy. “Of course, Bella. How could I forget that memory?”

“And you looked at me and said…”

“... that I didn’t know whether to report you or to…” 

“Merlin’s pointy femurs!“ Snape screamed suddenly. “The troll! It’s got me! It…”

The sudden interruption made Dumbledore pause. In that time, the mind of the world’s greatest wizard conjured up another thought. “But Bella,” Dumbledore said slowly, his face clouding over. “This was also where… Do you remember?”

Bellatrix’s eyes widened in shock as she remembered…

FLASHBACK

“BELLATRIX?” a voice roared.

Bellatrix’s eyes widened in shock even though she was still snogging Dumbledore and she knew it was gauche to open your eyes while you were snogging. But she had recognized the voice immediately. “James?” she mumbled, shoving Dumbledore away from her.

“I’m not James!” screeched Tom Riddle. “I am Tom Ri- I was Tom Riddle, but soon the world will know me as…” He whipped his wand across the air. Green letters twisted in front of him: TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. Tom continued to whip his wand through the air, painstaking reordering the letters one by one. “Lord Voldemort!” 

“It says LORD VOLDEMORT MIA,” said Dumbledore prissily.

“Ah, damn,” said the soon-to-be-known-as Lord Voldemort MIA, panting. “Wait a bit…” His wand scribbled through the air again, bumping the letters together unevenly so that became squashed and misshapen. They now seemed to read I AM LARD OLD FART. He gave up. “Enough. I meant to say… Bellatrix, how could you?”

“You… you know my name?” stammered Bellatrix.

Tom Riddle a.k.a Voldemort threw his hands up in a gesture of utmost passion. “How could I not? The cleverest and most beautiful witch in all of Hogwarts! How I loved you deep inside! And just as I was about to slay the fell creature and carry its still-warm body to you as a token of my love, in the hopes that you would see me as the lovestruck fool that I am… Instead, I find myself… only a fool.” He pounded his chest for emphasis, causing the decorative serpent-shaped pin on his chest to dislodge and stab him; he winced. “Lovestruck no more am I! Bellatrix, it is over between us!”

“Nooooooo!” Bellatrix wailed. “Tom, no I mean, Voldemort, don’t go! I… I love you!”

But Voldemort had already vanished out of earshot.

“Oh, Bella,” Dumbledore said tearfully. “I thought you loved me, but… I’ve heard enough!” Sobbing, he covered his face with his pale naked arms and ran out of the dungeon.

“Wait! Dubledumass, I mean, Blabablab...” 

But Dumbledore was gone.

As Bellatrix sat down heavily on the floor lined with half-empty liquor bottles, determined to drink as much as she could, she cursed her horrible luck with men. How did this keep happening to her? She would be alone, always alone...

Burnt out ends of smoky days

The stale cold smell of morning

The chonkmank dies, another night is over

Another day is dawning

END FLASHBACK

“HELP ME, MERLIN, IT’S GOT MY SHOE!” 

Snape’s shrill screams rudely wrenched Bellatrix out of her memories and back into the present. 

“Shut up, Snape!” she shouted, aiming a spell over her shoulder without looking. There were bellows of pain. But Snape’s screeching continued. Bellatrix frowned. She had meant to hit Snape, but accidentally got the troll instead.

Bellowing in pain, the troll held on to Snape’s leg and began smacking him against the stone floor of the dungeon. It looked like it was having fun. 

“Good work, Bellatrix,” Dumbledore said smartly, breaking into a trot. “Now I’ll just approach from the southern…”

Anger welled up in Bellatrix’s guts. These stupid incompetent pathetic men! “Sebaceuouscyst!” she shrieked, flicking her wand at the troll. It immediately fell over and died.

“Goodness me,” said Dumbledore, readjusting his robes, which had got stuck in his boxers as he advanced. Everyone could see that today, the headmaster of Hogwarts was wearing…

“Slytherin boxers?” Snape croaked, through swollen lips. It sounded as though his jaw might have been dislocated.

“I, ah…” Dumbledore flushed bright red. “It so happens that I have been fond of… one Slytherin in particular… and being quite unable to state my feelings plainly, have adopted these as an homage, you might say…” He peered up at Bellatrix meaningfully.

“Dumbledore, I’ve told you so many times already but you never listen, I love Lil-”

“Shut up, Snape,” said Dumbledore and Bellatrix together.

Dumbledore coughed. “Bellatrix, I… I must ask you…”

She leaned forward, heart pounding. Was this the moment when he would finally profess his love and ask her to be his? “Yes…?”

“Would you do me the honor of… Will you…?

“Yes!” shrieked Bellatrix, as Dumbledore said, “Be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor here at Hogwarts?”

“Wonderful!” Dumbledore was exultant. “Let’s go do your paperwork!”

\---------------------------------------------

“M-m-m-master,” the thin, pasty man stammered. “I-I-I d-did as you c-c-commanded and s-s-set the troll loose in the d-d-d-dungeon.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here, Quirrell. Spit it out.”

“B-b-b-but it was k-k-killed.”

Serpentine eyes narrowed. “By whom?” 

“B-b-b-by B-b-b-Bella t-t-t-trix L-l-l-l-e-s-s-t-t-t-t-t-tt-t-r-r-r-r-a-n-g-e-e-e-e,” whispered Quirrell, who had squeezed his eyes shut.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!” A flash of green light and Quirrell keeled over, dead.

Lord Voldemort sighed. Good help was so hard to find these days. Now his second-best Death Eater lay dead at his feet. Because his first-best Death Easter had ruined his second-best Death Eater’s plans!

He supposed he could have informed all his Death Eaters of what his plans were, overall. But was that really his job? “No,” Lord Voldemort said out loud. “They’re all fools, but I’m a genius.”

Nagini appeared suddenly at his feet, hissing. “You have a message for me? Bellatrix has just become the new Defense against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts?”

He pictured Bellatrix teaching a classroom of hapless Hogwarts students. She was a brilliant witch who did not know the first thing about defending against the dark arts. A brilliant, beautiful witch, who had unknowingly captured his cold hard heart all those years ago…

There was only one thing to do. He would go to Hogwarts.

\-----------------------------------------------

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it! Next chapter coming soon! Please review and let me know what you thought!

\---

OLDER DRAFT JUST IN CASE

Bellatrix gazed up at the neon sign of The Hefty Burrito. Slyfinger’s Sleepeasy (where good and evil witches and wizards meet to have torrid affairs) was constantly changing its front so the Muggles would not be suspicious. Apparently Mexican cuisine was trending amongst the Muggles. Bellatrix didn’t care as long as some form of meat was served.

She entered and immediately spotted Narcissa, who had claimed a cozy corner booth and was perusing a laminated menu. 

“CISSY!” she shouted. The man behind the counter dropped the burrito he was holding. 

Narcissa didn’t even flinch as her eyes flicked up towards her sister and she waved a delicate hand at her. “I haven’t ordered yet Bella, what do you want?” Bellatrix slid into the booth and tried to give Narcissa a hug but her sister fended her off with the menu. “You have dried blood on your dress Bella. And I want to order now, I’m halfway through my cleanse and I’m starving.”

Bellatrix pouted. “I don’t see you for weeks, then you send me a hysterical Howler blubbering something about Draco and so I leave my top-secret, super important mission for the Dark Lord to see you, and I don’t even get a hug?” 

“Bella, you hate hugs.”

Ugh, Narcissa had a point. She did hate hugs.

“Bella, can you get me an extra spicy bean burrito, cheesy enchiladas, an arugula salad and a bottle of San Pell?”

Silence fell between the sisters once they were ensconced within their booth again with their food, as Bellatrix delicately sliced the warm tortilla skin of her carnitas burrito open, revealing the smoky meat and rice inside. Narcissa picked at her arugula salad and alternated sniffing her extra spicy bean burrito and cheesy enchiladas. Bellatrix shook her head. Narcissa was most definitely back on crack. This should be good. Narcissa was fun when she was on crack. But Narcissa on crack while on a diet? Unpredictable.

“What’s going on -”

“I’m worried about Draco!”

Oh no. Crackhead/dieting Narcissa worried about the little blond snot was the antithesis of fun. Shame that Draco had inherited his father’s stormy grey eyes, pointy chin, and moral backbone of a chocolate eclair, and was thus so inherently easy to bully.

“Bella, you remember James Potter, don’t you?”

FLASHBACK

“James Potter, you absolute rotter!”

Bellatrix howled like a banshee and hurled a Mint Slice towards the tall, slim boy with messy, dark hair trying to hide behind a couch in the Slytherin common room.

“Good shot Black! Right in Snivellus’ face!” He roared with laughter and pelted another Dungbomb at Bellatrix, who blasted it out of the air a split second before it could hit her in the eye. Bellatrix seethed and then choked on Dungbomb particles. Stupid Snape and his stupid face and his stupid hair and his stupid brain had carelessly left the portrait concealing the entrance to the Slytherin common room wide open. At least Snape had paid for this transgression - he was splayed out on the floor, having copped a Mint Slice to the forehead. It was Snape’s fault for getting in the way of it, she was aiming for Potter, trying to knock his ridiculous glasses off his face.

“It would’ve been an even better shot if it’d hit y ou!” she screamed and continued throwing Mint Slices in the direction of the couch Potter was trying to hide behind. He laughed again, an easy laugh that Bellatrix found annoyingly charming. Merry, brown eyes half-hidden under floppy hair met her furious gaze.

“Oh come on, Black, take the compliment,” he grinned.

“GET OUT OF HERE YOU INTERLOPER,” she snarled, but it seemed more and more likely that he would not budge so easily. She might possibly have to get physical with him.

Bellatrix stomped over to the ruined couch, intending to gut him with her empty plastic Mint Slice tray, but she found herself getting distracted by the way his eyes followed her every move. She could see his chest rising and falling, his breathing getting heavier as she got closer to him, and before she could begin her tirade, he closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her. They snogged for hours…

END FLASHBACK

Bellatrix shook her head to rid herself of that unwanted memory of a moment of weakness. She had been on a break with Rodolphus, the idiot having annoyed her yet again, and everyone knew that while Potter was infatuated with the mudblood Lily Evans, she wasn’t having a bar of it.

“Bella? Bella!” 

Bellatrix blinked and roused herself from the unwelcome memory. That was all it was. Just a memory…

Touch me

It’s so easy to leave me

All alone with my memory

Of my days in the sun

“As I was saying, Potter's son, Harry, bullies Draco terribly and is a horrid little gobshite to him on a daily basis! But Lucius has been banned from being on the grounds of Hogwarts for another fortnight because he accidentally set Hagrid’s hut on fire again, so he can’t go to check up on Draco…”

Bellatrix scowled. If Draco couldn’t find the gumption to stand up for himself why should she waste her time on the spineless runt? She had better things to do with her time! Like murdering Mudbloods, for example! And abducting house elves! Undeterred by her sister’s complete lack of interest, Narcissa widened her baby-blue eyes and peered at her sister. “Pwetty pwease Bewwa?”

Bellatrix groaned internally. She could never say no to Narcissa when she called her that. It reminded her of when they were children and how Narcissa used to beg her to demonstrate the Unforgivable Curses on whichever unlucky house elf was scurrying by. 

“Fine, Cissy,” she glared at her. “But now I must complete the extremely important and secretive task the Dark Lord has set me.” Bellatrix turned up her nose at Narcissa’s gushing thanks and Apparated back to Blackpool where she had to finish torturing the silly man at the dodgems on the Central Pier who thought it would be a good idea to bump the car the Dark Lord was steering. 

Some hours later, Narcissa came to. She had passed out from hunger and had ended up face down into her salad. Weakly, she ate a small cube of cheese and waited to feel less woozy. This diet is the worst, she thought. Crack was so much better, plus she had way more fun.  
\----------------------------------------------

“Avada kedavra!”

A flash of green light and the Muggle collapsed at Bella’s feet. She cursed. Another pleb without the Uber app on their phone. How like Muggles to invent perfectly good apps and then refuse to use them on principle. She threw it at a passing car and stormed off in search of another unsuspecting Muggle on their phone.

A few hours later, seated in the backseat of an Uber on her way up to the Scottish Highlands, Bellatrix finally allowed herself to relax. A little. By only Confounding passing drivers of pink cars. But there weren’t too many pink cars, so she allowed herself a couple of red ones. She thought about Dumbledore, and a little shiver went up her spine. She would need to be fierce, and stern, and not allow him to get the better of her by toying with her reluctant affection for him. He was meaningless to her! Her heart beat only for her beloved Dark Lord, Voldie!

When the Uber arrived at Hogsmeade, she avada kedavra’d the driver and blasted the car into the Forbidden Forest. She was excellent at clearing her tracks. She shook her wild, black curls and made her way up to the castle. Evening had fallen and Bellatrix knew that all the students would be in the Great Hall having dinner. The perfect time to sneak into the Headmaster’s office and hide, in order to surprise him and give him a big hug… Wait, no! She hated hugs! She was going to give him a piece of her mind! Well, Cissy’s mind! About Draco! She cursed and stupefied an owl that swooped a little too close for comfort.

\---------------------------------------------------

“Piss off, Malfoy!”

“You piss off, Potter!”

A glob of mashed potato sailed over Hermione’s head toward s the Slytherin table. With her nose buried deep in Hogwarts: A History, she barely noticed when a chicken wing came flying back towards the Gryffindors. It was on Harry if he thought starting a food fight with the first year Slytherins was a better idea than doing extra research for Professor Binn’s essay. Hermione, on the other hand, had every intention of finishing the textbook tonight and getting a headstart on the essay, which was due in two months’ time. Then she could get started on Professor Quirrell’s essay on ghouls and poltergeists that was due at the end of term.

With chaos reigning within the Great Hall, there was not a soul around to witness Bellatrix waltzing into the Courtyard and begin to make her way towards Dumbledore’s office. She had barely taken a step over the castle threshold when a thin, pale and clammy-looking man in a turban rushed past her, yelling incoherently. Bellatrix thought she vaguely recognised him, but then again, it was hard to tell one bland, pasty man from another these days. So unlike her darling Voldie. She would recognise his sharp,angular, snake-like face anywhere. And also Snape, she conceded. He was rather distinctive, for all his pasty-ness.

But as he rushed into the Great Hall, still yelling, Bellatrix’s interest was piqued. She sidled up to the door and propped it open with her foot as she eyed the man who stopped in the middle of the Great Hall.

“TROLL!”

A hush came over the students. A snotty-faced red-haired boy, yet another Weasley, Bellatrix surmised, was in the middle of waterboarding what looked like a very soggy and half-drowned young Crabbe with pumpkin juice, who immediately ceased his choking and gurgling. 

“TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!” Pasty Face shouted again into the silence. 

“Thought you ought to know.” He collapsed in a dead faint.

The Great Hall erupted in a mass of sound and activity. Some of the younger students began screaming and shouting, before McGonagall waved her wand and they all fell into the dishes, out cold. Draco reached for a tureen, dumped the contents on the table in front of him and began sculpting a wall out of mashed potatoes. Potter brandished a fistful of grapes at the door and the Weasley boy began waterboarding Crabbe again with a vengeance. Hermione chose to slide under the table to continue reading in peace. Leaving McGonagall to shout herself hoarse in an attempt to subdue the hordes, Dumbledore drifted towards the door with a nonchalant smile, delicately stepping over Pasty Face with Snape trailing close behind.

Uh oh. He was coming closer and closer to where Bellatrix was skulking by the door. She slipped out and hid behind the nearest statue. It was of her great, great, great, great, great-grandfather, Phineas Black. She patted the statue’s arm affectionately as Dumbledore strode past.

Dumbledore’s proud, Roman nose, and twinkly eyes were such a far cry from Voldemort’s profile, but nevertheless Bellatrix couldn’t prevent a soft sigh escaping from her lips as he turned down towards the dungeon. Throwing what little caution she possessed to the wind, Bellatrix slipped out from her hiding spot and followed Dumbledore and the overgrown bat down towards the dungeons.

“Humph,” Snape said. “I fail to see why it is we who are having to deal with this primitive creature. The students should be handling this. It would be very educational. When I was a -”

“Shut up, Snape,” said Bellatrix. Snape flinched at her sudden appearance but knew better than to question it.

“Hello, Bellatrix,” said Dumbledore pleasantly. “Ahhh, heading deeper into the dungeons with you, Bella, just like old times…” 

And as she watched Dumbledore continue striding into the dungeon ahead of her, a memory stirred in her mind…

FLASHBACK

“BELLATRIX!” Albus Dumbledore roared, as he strode into the dungeon wearing only a pair of boxers patterned with the Gryffindor insignia. His Head Boy badge was pinned to the front.

“Albus!?” Bellatrix gasped. “Oh, you startled me!”

“What are you doing in the dungeon, Bellatrix?”

“I… I…” She hesitated. In fact, she had gone to the dungeon to weep alone. The most handsome Slytherin boy, Tom Riddle , had been her partner for their presentation on the uses of mandrake roots in potions class. She had hexed several students in order to be his partner (she could have just hexed one, but not knowing who Riddle’s original partner had been, she had cursed about twenty just to improve the odds). And he had completely ignored her yet again, even throughout the entire presentation. He was so handsome, and she was so heartbroken. There was nothing else to do but retreat to the dungeon with a flask of Firewhisky and a bottle of Butterbeer and a handle of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour vodka and…

“Actually, I know why you’re here, Bella,” Dumbledore said, lowering his voice dramatically. She couldn’t help but notice how sexy his voice lowering was… 

“Why?” she said breathily, not unaware of the strong scent of concentrated liquor on her breath. 

But Dumbledore didn’t seem to notice. “You’re here because you heard about… the chirping chipmunk.”

Bellatrix gasped. “The… what?”

“Yes,” Dumbledore continued darkly. “A vicious creature escaped from the Forbidden Forest and made its way into the dungeon. You heard, and planned to slay the creature and claim the glory! But so did I!”

He looked so magnificent and handsome as he spoke, even though Bellatrix scarcely knew what he was going on about. “What if…” she found herself whispering. “What if we slew it… together?”

Dumbledore cocked his head and looked at her strangely, like a horse that suddenly has something in one of its eyes. Then his expression slowly changed. He realized he had never in his life seen a girl as beautiful and brave as Bellatrix Lestrange. He felt… he knew… he loved.

“Yes, my Bella,” he whispered. “Together.”

Holding hands, extremely awkwardly, as both needed their right hands to hold their wands, they rounded the corner into the deepest part of the dungeon. In a corner, the chirping chipmunk made a squeak. It was clutching part of a pumpkin pasty that looked like it had been swiped from dinner.

“Expelliarmus!” cried Dumbledore, twirling his wand through the air. The chunk of pumpkin pasty flew out of the chipmunk’s paws. “Stand back, foe! Bellatrix, don’t fear. I will approach by way of the southern-”

“AVADA KEDAVRA!” shouted Bellatrix. The chipmunk made a choking sound, seized up, and keeled over.

“Bella!” Dumbledore gasped. He was shocked. “That’s one of the unforgivable curses! I… I… I don’t know whether to report you or to…!” He charged forward and started kissing her frantically before his qualms could get in the way. While the corpse of their vanquished foe stiffened at their feet, they snogged for hours…

END FLASHBACK

Bellatrix gasped and clutched at the dungeon wall. The memory of Albus snogging her was so vivid, so magical. She noticed the dusty remains of chipmunk bones on the ground. It had been right here!

“Dumbus… I mean, Ambledumbus, I mean, Dalbusdumbleseabassasore…” The memory of their dalliance was too much for her. She stopped walking, in an effort to concentrate on what she was saying. “Albus, darling, do you remember…”

“Eh?” Dumbledore said, turning around. “Wot?”

“Do you remember when you and I came here, to this very spot?”

“I….” His expression turned dreamy. “Of course, Bella. How could I forget that memory?”

“And you looked at me and said…”

“... that I didn’t know whether to report you or to…” 

“Merlin’s pointy femurs!“ Snape screamed suddenly. “The troll! It’s got me! It…”

The sudden interruption made Dumbledore pause. In that time, the mind of the world’s greatest wizard conjured up another thought. “But Bella,” Dumbledore said slowly, his face clouding over. “This was also where… Do you remember?”

Bellatrix’s eyes widened in shock as she remembered…

FLASHBACK

“BELLATRIX?” a voice roared.

Bellatrix’s eyes widened in shock even though she was still snogging Dumbledore and she knew it was gauche to open your eyes while you were snogging. But she had recognized the voice immediately. “James?” she mumbled, shoving Dumbledore away from her.

“I’m not James!” Tom Riddle screeched. “I am Tom Ri- I was Tom Riddle, but soon the world will know me as…” He whipped his wand across the air. Green letters twisted in front of him: TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. Tom continued to whip his wand through the air, painstaking reordering the letters one by one. “Lord Voldemort!” 

“It says LORD VOLDEMORT MIA,” Dumbledore said peevishly.

“Ah, damn,” said the soon-to-be-known-as Lord Voldemort MIA, panting. “Wait a bit…” His wand scribbled through the air again, bumping the letters together unevenly so that became squashed and misshapen. They now seemed to read I AM LARD OLD FART. He gave up. “I meant to say… Bellatrix, how could you?”

“You… you know my name?” Bellatrix stammered.

Tom Riddle a.k.a Voldemort threw his hands up in a gesture of passion. “How could I not? The cleverest and most beautiful witch in all of Hogwarts! How I loved you deep inside! And just as I was about to slay the fell creature and carry its still-warm body to you as a token of my love, in the hopes that you would see me as the lovestruck fool that I am… Instead, I find myself… only a fool.” He pounded his chest for emphasis, causing the decorative serpent-shaped pin on his chest to dislodge and stab him; he winced. “Lovestruck! Never, not I! Bellatrix, it is over between us!”

“Nooooooo!” Bellatrix wailed. “Tom, no I mean, Voldemort, don’t go! I… I love you!”

But Voldemort had already vanished out of earshot.

“Oh, Bella,” Dumbledore said tearfully. “I thought you loved me, but… I’ve heard enough!” Sobbing, he swept the sleeve of his robe over his face and ran out of the dungeon.

“Wait! Dubledumass, I mean, Blabablab...” 

But Dumbledore was gone.

As Bellatrix sat down heavily on the floor lined with half-empty liquor bottles, determined to drink as much as she could, she cursed her horrible luck with men. How did this keep happening to her? She would be alone, always alone...

Burnt out ends of smoky days

The stale cold smell of morning

The chipmunk dies, another night is over

Another day is dawning

END FLASHBACK

“HELP ME, MERLIN, IT’S GOT MY SHOE!” 

Snape’s shrill screams rudely wrenched Bellatrix out of her memories and back into the present. 

“Shut up, Snape!” she shouted, aiming a spell over her shoulder without looking. There were bellows of pain. But Snape’s screeching continued. She frowned. She had meant to hit Snape, but accidentally got the troll instead. Bellowing in pain, the troll held on to Snape’s leg and began smacking him against the stone floor of the dungeon. It looked like it was having fun. 

“Good work, Bellatrix,” Dumbledore said smartly, breaking into a trot. “Now I’ll just approach from the southern…”

Anger welled up in Bellatrix’s guts. These stupid incompetent men! “Sebaceuouscyst!” she shrieked, flicking her wand at the troll. It immediately fell over and died.

“Goodness me,” said Dumbledore, readjusting his robes, which had got stuck in his boxers as he advanced. But today, they were…

“Slytherin boxers?” Snape croaked, through swollen lips. It sounded as though his jaw might have been dislocated.

“I, ah…” Dumbledore flushed bright red. “It so happens that I have been fond of… one Slytherin in particular… and being quite unable to state my feelings plainly, have adopted these as an homage, you might say…” He peered up at Bellatrix meaningfully.

“Dumbledore, I’ve told you so many times already but you never listen, I love Lil-”

“Shut up, Snape,” said Dumbledore and Bellatrix together.

Dumbledore coughed. “Bellatrix, I… I must ask you…”

She leaned forward. “Yes…?”

“Would you do me the honor of… Will you…?

“Yes!” Bellatrix said, as Dumbledore said, “Be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor here at Hogwarts?”

“Wonderful!” Dumbledore was exultant. He threw Bellatrix a smouldering look. “I’m glad you will be here, with me,” he said tenderly.

\---------------------------------------------

“M-m-m-master,” the thin, pasty man stammered. “I-I-I d-did as you c-c-commanded and s-s-set the troll loose in the d-d-d-dungeon.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here, Quirrell. Spit it out.”

“B-b-b-but it was k-k-killed.”

Serpentine eyes narrowed. “By whom?” 

“B-b-b-by B-b-b-Bella t-t-t-trix,” whispered Quirrell, who had squeezed his eyes shut.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!” A flash of green light and Quirrell keeled over, dead.

Lord Voldemort sighed. Good help was so hard to find these days. Now his second-best Death Eater lay dead at his feet. Because his first-best Death Easter had ruined his second-best Death Eater's plans!  
He supposed he could have informed all his Death Eaters of what his plans were, overall. But was that really his job? "No," Lord Voldemort said out loud. "No, it's not."  
Nagini appeared suddenly at his feet, hissing. "Ah, Nagini, you have a message for me? Bellatrix has just become the new Defense against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts?"  
He pictured Bellatrix teaching a classroom of hapless Hogwarts students. She was a beautiful, highly intelligent witch who did not know the first thing about defending against the dark arts.  
A beautiful, highly intelligent witch who had unknowingly captured his cold hard heart all those years ago…  
There was only one thing to do.  
He would go to Hogwarts.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

It was the day of Harry Potter’s first quidditch match, but nobody cared. Bellatrix Lestrange, the cleverest and most beautiful dark witch of their times, certainly had far more important things on her mind. As she was jostled and shoved by crowds of students, who were headed to the Quidditch pitch decked out those ridiculous scarves in their House colours, she saw a tall gaunt handsome man in an absurdly lengthy Gryffindor scarf, evidently trying to blend into the crowd and failing.

“REMUS LUPIN!?” she yelled.

Her yell startled him. He jumped up like a cat that had had a bucket of Butterbeer thrown over it. “Shhhh!” he whispered loudly, though he was completely ignored by the crowds of students. “Bellatrix, I’m supposed to be undercover here at Hogwarts. Sirius asked me to keep an eye on Harry. He seems to think someone will try to endanger him here at Hogwarts. Especially since the last Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts was fired.”

“Ha!” Bellatrix threw her head back and laughed. Her long black hair smacked a poor unsuspecting Hufflepuff child in the face, who staggered and fell down. “As usual, Lupin, you haven’t heard what’s going on. I am Hogwarts’ new Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts! And, in fact, I have a duty to keep an eye out for suspicious characters infiltrating the castle, like you.”

“Suspicious characters?” Tears sprang to Lupin’s eyes. “Bella, don’t you remember? Our… our _past?”_

Bellatrix’s eyes widened. A memory swarmed into her mind…

FLASHBACK

“Keep your eyes closed, Bella,” Lupin said, as he led her by the hand. “I want this to be a surprise.”

“Of course, Lupie,” purred Bellatrix, peeking only slightly through her lowered eyelids. She saw that he was leading her up the stairs to the seventh floor, towards the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy. So the Room of Requirement, hmm....

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

There was a table covered with a tablecloth and six candles burning on it. Two places were set, and by each place a strange-looking bottle was near. In the middle of the table was a strange circle. It did not look at all edible.

"What is this, Remus?"

_"Pi-zza,"_ said Lupin proudly, pronouncing it in a brightly and dubiously Italian way. _“Molto bene, sì?”_

Bellatrix stared at the strange food. It looked so absurd it had to be Muggle in origin. It was so red with chunks on it, like if a large owl had been run over by a lorry. “It does look like it’s moulting,” she said, wondering why the hell Lupin had thought this would be something she would like. When she had agreed to go on a date with him, this was not what she had had in mind. She had imagined they could go for a romantic walk in the Forbidden Forest under the light of the full moon...

"I arranged for it to be delivered to _Slyfinger’s Contactless Pick-up,_ a shop in Hogsmeade that poses as Muggles to accept Muggle deliveries, _o mio babbino caro_. _Mamma mia_ , it cost me a fortune! Go on, try some, _amore_."

Very reluctantly, Bellatrix picked up one of the weird triangles that Lupin cut from the big circle. She nibbled on the corner and started choking violently.

“Here,” Lupin said, quickly passing her a slim green bottle. “It goes well with beer.”

Bella did not have the capacity to ask Lupin what in Merlin’s name beer was, so she snatched the bottle from Lupin and drained it all in one gulp. Relief washed through her veins with the alcohol. Or maybe that was just the alcohol. Hmm, maybe the Muggles do get some things right, on the odd occasion. But even the beer couldn’t wash out the taste of this horrid concoction Lupin had served her… and the terrible texture of the cheese and crust and...

"Bella, I’m so glad you’re here with me,” Lupin said earnestly. “I want to tell you something about me, but I'm afraid you'll be disgusted with me…”

“Wait a moment,” Bellatrix interrupted rudely. “Lupin… I think I understand. You were afraid to tell me… that this _pizza..._ is _vegetarian_!” She spat the word out with utter loathing.

“What? No! Firstly, Bellatrix, this pizza is not vegetarian. Look, there’s _prosciutto_ on it.”

“Prosciutto? What the hell is prosciutto?” 

“ _PrrroSCIUtto_ ,” Lupin explained, again with highly doubtful Italian pronunciation, “is a sweet, delicate, seasoned and air-cured ham that is meant to be eaten raw. I ordered prosciutto di Parmi, a product of superior quality that is highly traceable throughout the entire production process, by quality control inspection stamps and markings. It is an artisanal and unique product that has earned a certified Protected Designation of Origin status, which makes it expensive due to importation costs and its high quality. Whatever that means.” He frowned. “I told them to put the prosciutto on after the pizza was baked, but they didn’t. Unfortunately, it’s more like bacon now.” This is a true story about what happens if you put prosciutto on your pizza before baking it, like a fool. (What a fool!)  
  
  


Bellatrix poked a thin crispy ridge of prosciutto with her finger. “I beg your pardon, but this is not _meat._ This is an insult to meat.”

“Secondly, Bella, there’s something else I’m trying to tell you…”

“Actually, no. This would be an insult to meat, if there were _any_ of it to begin with...”

“I was very young when I received the bite…”

“...and who would even want to eat all this bread? And cheese? And- ” Bellatrix shuddered - “... tomato sauce? _Tomatoes?_ ”

“I’M A WEREWOLF, BELLA!” Lupin roared. “BUT YOU’RE A MONSTER! ONLY A MONSTER COULD FAIL TO APPRECIATE PIZZA, THE PINNACLE OF MUGGLE CUISINE!”

“This pizza thing is stupid,” sneered Bellatrix. She was dimly aware that Lupin had said something else too that could be important, but she was too appalled by the pizza to pay attention.

“DO YOU EVEN -” Lupin stopped, aware that Bellatrix was paying him no attention whatsoever, and stomped out of the room.

When he had gone (it was a relief to have his yelling stop), Bellatrix was bored. Her stomach rumbled loudly. Suddenly she smelled something that did remind her of bacon. She sniffed the pizza cautiously. Then she picked off a shard of torched prosciutto and crunched it. It was decent.

The door burst open and Lupin came storming back in. Without a word, he took Bellatrix’s now prosciutto-less slice of pizza and ate it.

Bellatrix and Lupin consumed the rest of the pizza in silence. Then they snogged for hours (it was the best date either of them had been on)...

_Midnight, not a sound from the pavement._

_Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone._

_In the lamplight the withered leaves collect at my feet,_

_And Remus Lupin, who is a werewolf, begins to moan._

END FLASHBACK

Bellatrix, now Hogwarts Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, came back to her senses. She was at the Quidditch pitch.

It was Harry's first Quidditch match, and he was desperately trying to hang on to his broomstick as it bucked wildly in the air, attempting to throw him off. Obviously someone was jinxing the broom, but Bellatrix couldn’t be bothered trying to find the cause of it. She hoped it was Draco practising his inanimate object curses.

“Bleeaarghhh…” Harry started vomiting all over the ground. Chunks in red goop splattered on the ground landing neatly in a circle as the broomstick spun Harry round and round. Why was it so red? What the hell was the Great Hall serving the little maggots for breakfast these days? The circle of vomit reminded her of something… that ridiculous pizza thing that Lupin had served to her all those years ago!

“Bella,” Dumbledore said, panting as he hurried over to her, “thank goodness you’re here! It looks like Harry needs help! Obviously he has inherited none of James’ excellent Quidditch skills so he has no idea how to ride a broomstick! Can you do something to help him?”

Bellatrix sighed loudly. Dumbledore was such a fool, but he was her boss and he was handsome. 

“Accio broomstick!” she cried. The nearest broomstick came flying out from under an unfortunate Slytherin Beater, who crashed to the ground screaming.

“Good thinking, Bella!” Dumbledore cried. He pointed his wand at Lupin’s red-and-gold Gryffindor scarf and Transfigured it into a broomstick. The broomstick had red-and-gold racing stripes. 

“Nooooo! My scarf!” Lupin moaned, as Dumbledore whizzed away.

As Bellatrix swooped through the air, she saw two more figures on broomsticks. “LUPIN?” she yelled. “VOLDIE?”

Harry swooped past on his broom, which was still jerking crazily through the air. Thinking quickly, Bella swiped the bat from the still-screaming Beater on the ground and flew after Harry, raising the bat and swinging with all her might as he came past her again. It connected with his stomach, setting off a renewed bout of vomiting, and he flew off the jinxed broom and landed on top of the Slytherin Beater who was now covered in red gloop too. 

“BELLA HELP” yelled Voldemort, who somehow had stolen the Quaffle from one of the students and was flying maniacally towards the Gryffindor goalposts while being chased by a Bludger. Bella threw him the bat as he passed her the Quaffle, and she neatly tossed it into the hoop as he fended off the Bludger, the two of them working in tandem like a well-oiled machine.

“Albus, catch!” screamed Lupin, passing the Quaffle, just in time for it to be intercepted by Bellatrix, who flew past cackling evilly.

“Sorry, sorry,” Dumbledore panted, attempting to make a U-turn on his broom but veering wildly off course. As he flew around in a muddle, Bellatrix flung the Quaffle through Gryffindor’s hoops, scoring another goal. 

“Dammit, Albus!” Lupin screamed. “Okay, I’ve got the Quaffle again - catch!”

Albus missed pitifully, and Bellatrix scored another goal. This repeated itself a few times. Until...

“Take that!” Voldemort shrieked, beating a Bludger towards Dumbledore. But he missed completely and the Bludger struck Bellatrix on the back of the head, knocking her out cold. She plummeted to the ground like a drunken hippogriff. “Noooooo! Bellaaaa!” Voldemort yelled, diving to catch her.

“Bellaaaaa! Noooooo!” Dumbledore yelled, also diving to catch her.

There was a loud crack as Dumbledore and Voldemort collided in midair. Fortunately, they landed first, cushioning Bellatrix’s fall when she landed heavily on top of them. Lupin caught the Snitch. It was his proudest moment at Hogwarts, but nobody noticed. 

\--

Bellatrix Lestrange felt a searing pain in her head. She opened her eyes. The light, it was so bright, it made her want to throw up. “Did I get into the house elves’ moonshine again last night?” she groaned. “Come on, Bella, after last Monday you told yourself you would try to have standards…”

“There’s no moonshine here, Bella,” Dumbledore boomed. “ _Someone_ knocked you unconscious while you were playing Quidditch.” Dumbledore shot Voldemort a glare.

“It was just a teeny tiny Bludger,” Voldemort grumbled. “Bellatrix is just a pansy.”

“Voldemort, you’re a jerk!” Dumbledore gasped.

“And Dumbledore, you’re a shitty Quidditch player!” Lupin 

“Well, Lupin, you’re a werewolf!” Dumbledore yelped, bright red in the face. He clapped both hands over his mouth. 

“It doesn’t matter, Albus. We all knew that already,” Voldemort said wearily. 

"What?!?! I didn't know that," Bellatrix retorted. "Lupie, why didn't you tell me?"

Lupin puffed himself up, glorying in the attention. "I did! That one time in the Room of Requirement! When I was madly in love with you! You may be the most beautiful and powerful dark witch of our times, Bella, but you're a bad listener! And you - you - you don’t appreciate pizza!”

Everyone except Bellatrix gasped.

“What,” Bella asked irritably. “It’s disgusting, not even the burnt bacon bits can redeem it.”

“Not burnt bacon bits!” Lupin sniped. “ _PrrroSCIUtto di Parrrrrrmi!_ Just that the silly man at the pizza shop insisted on putting it on the pizza _before_ it went in the oven, not _after_ , like I’d specified! _”_

Voldemort and Dumbledore both looked impressed at Lupin’s still-shocking pronunciation, which had not improved in the years since their pizza date.

“But I knew then, Bella, when you turned up your nose at pizza, that we could never be together!” Lupin sniffed. “I knew, when you could not, would not, appreciate the ooey gooey-ness of the melted margherita cheese, the crunch of the crust and the tart yet sweet bite of the vine-ripened tomato sauce, that we would never work.”

“Mmmm, that sounds like a cracker of a pizza,” Dumbledore mumbled dreamily.

“Stop it, you’re starting to drool Albus,” said Bellatrix crossly.

“Well it _was_ a great pizza,” Lupin grumbled. 

“You know, after all that physical exertion, and now all this talk about pizza, I’m feeling a little peckish,” remarked Voldemort. “I had initially meant to verbally eviscerate you Bella, about taking on the Defence Against the Dark Arts job without even consulting me, your Dark Lord, about it, but I’m not too sure I want to even be the Dark Lord of someone who can’t appreciate pizza.”

“W-w-what do you mean, ‘had meant to’, Voldie?” Bellatrix stammered. This was not how it was supposed to go. She had a head injury for Merlin’s sake, and was lying in the Hospital Wing! They should be fighting over who would get the privilege to sit by her bedside and hold her hand!

“I know a good pizza place in Muggle London actually!” beamed Dumbledore. “It’s called Franco Manca, they do an excellent sourdough pizza!”

Voldemort clapped his hands together. “That sounds perfect. Lead the way Dumbledore, I’m starving. Bye Bella, hope you’re feeling better soon.”

“Bye Bella!” chimed Dumbledore, eyes twinkling at the thought of one of Franco Manca’s delicious roasted cured ham, British mozzarella, ricotta and wild mushroom pizzas, with just a little bit of tomato sauce.

Lupin sniffed loudly again and side-eyed a pale Bellatrix, shocked into silence by the abrupt departure of her several suitors.

“See you around, Bellatrix, maybe” Lupin mumbled, and blindly reached for his scarf before remembering that Dumbledore had Transfigured it into a broom earlier and then totaled it colliding with Voldemort.

Bellatrix flopped back into her pillows as the three wizards trooped out of the Hospital Wing, with Dumbledore promising to bring Madam Pomfrey a pizza as thanks for the good care she was taking of Bellatrix. She was Bellatrix Lestrange! Men did not abandon her to go get pizza, of all things! She started sniffling quietly to herself as reality began to sink in, and she had to accept that she had, in fact, been abandoned in her hour of need, for pizza. But she would show them. She would rise above. 

But right now...

With a groan, she started digging through her robes. With satisfaction, her fingers closed around a hard flat object. She drew out her robe-flask, engraved with the Black family crest and the motto _TOUJOURS IVRE,_ a joke birthday present from Narcissa when they were teenagers. Cissy had been horrified when Bellatrix actually started using it daily. It was still mostly full of _Indentured Servi-brewed,_ the house elves’ latest seasonal moonshine blend. She took a hefty swig from the robe-flask and almost immediately began to sob drunkenly. She was Bellatrix Lestrange, the Dark Lord’s best lieutenant and Dumbledore’s best Defence Against the Dark Arts professor ever. 


	4. Chapter 4

It was autumn, and almost Halloween. Bellatrix Lestrange was still new to being Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. But her newness was not the reason for the absolutely shoddy job she was doing of it.

"And here's how you curse someone so that boogers come out of their ears," Bellatrix Lestrange was explaining haughtily. _"Nasamucusi-"_

"But Professor," Hermione Granger interrupted loudly, "aren't you supposed to be teaching us how to defend against the Dark Arts, not promulgate them?"

"The best offense is a good offense, Miss Granger!" Bellatrix snapped. "Yes, that’s right! The best _offense_ is a good offense! Thirty points from Gryffindor for asking stupid questions! Alright, I've demonstrated what you're supposed to be doing in today's lesson. Any questions?"

She glared around the room. Harry and Ron were each holding down one of Hermione's arms so she couldn't ask another question. Her nephew Draco already had his wand out, and was quivering half out of his chair in his excitement. "Very good," said Bellatrix. "Practice for the rest of class. On each other." She flounced out of the room, and was pleased to already hear the sound of boogers splattering on the floor as she left. She was Bellatrix Lestrange, and she was an inspiring pedagogue!

Dumbledore had wanted to speak with her. Rather than give up her precious free time, she had simply scheduled the meeting during her class periods. "And teachers complain they have too much to do," she scoffed. All they needed were proper time management skills!

Bellatrix strode towards Dumbledore’s office, still congratulating herself on her outstanding talent for scheduling. A giant stone wing nearly swiped her head, as she came too close to the stone gargoyle that guarded the spiral staircase to the Headmaster’s office. Bella agilely leaped out of the way, and snarled a spell in the general direction of the staircase.

“ _Confringo_!”

As the stone gargoyle began to glow an ominous pulsating red, Bellatrix ducked back around the corner, waiting...

BANG! The gargoyle exploded and small chunks of stone rained down.The stone dust was getting in her hair, but Bellatrix didn’t care. She was above trivial matters such as dust allergies.

“Dumblydorrrrre,” purred Bella, as she glided into the Headmaster’s office. “How is my favourite Headmaster today?”

“Bella!” gasped Dumbledore. “What was that bang? Wh-wh-why are you covered in dust?”

“Oh Dumblydore! As I was trying to get into your office, I was attacked by a giant stone thingy! So I blew it up!”

“You-you blew… up… Snugglesby…” whispered Dumbledore, a single tear sliding down his cheek.

Bellatrix stared at Dumbledore as he slowly began to sob great heaving sobs. Dumbledore slid off his chair, under his desk, and continued to cry. A thin pale hand snaked up from under the table and grabbed a half-opened bag of lemon sherbets.

“They were his favourite,” came a small sob from under the table.

“I’ll have one, then, since he can’t anymore,” Bellatrix said logically. “Now, Albus, what did you want to speak to me about?”

Choking on his sobs, Dumbledore snuffled, “I wanted to see how the Halloween planning committee was going.”

Bellatrix tossed her long black hair back, scattering Snugglesby’s remains all over Dumbledore’s pristinely manicured desk. (You wouldn’t think a desk could be described as manicured, but as Bellatrix surveyed the meticulously polished paperweights, neatly trimmed quills, and carefully arranged stacks of paper that she was continuing to shower with stone dust, she concluded that there was no more suitable word.) “Oh, that old thing?”

It was in their contracts that all the Hogwarts professors had to serve on committees. Bellatrix was disgusted, until she realized that if she volunteered to chair the Halloween planning committee, she could control the budget.

“It’s quite ambitious for a new teacher to ask to chair a committee, but I was sure you would be up to the task. The programme is settled?”

“Certainly, Headmaster,” Bellatrix said smoothly.

“And the food?”

“Yes, I’ve handled it.”

“And the decorations?”

“All taken care of.”

“And the - ”

“Don’t fret, Headmaster,” Bellatrix said, squeezing Dumbledore’s arm. Since she had spent the entire budget on alcohol, planning the festivities had become so much simpler. Most importantly, she felt that she would have a decent time.

\--

As a reward for all her hard work, on the day of the Halloween party Bellatrix decided she would let herself have a little lunchtime cocktail as a treat. Perhaps she could even have it as brunch - which people had at ten in the morning, did they not? Nine thirty, even, for the truly dedicated? “Ah, what the hell,” Bellatrix said out loud, as she leaned over the side of her bed at 9:29am and groped around for the bottle of Lobe-Blaster she kept on her bedside table, knocking over a few empty bottles in the process. She had tried Lobe-Blaster in America as an exchange student during her fifth year and found it quite to her liking.

She was cheerfully tipsy as she rolled into the Great Hall, which had been left unoccupied according to her instructions. She made short work of what needed to be done, and started on the Firewhiskey that had helpfully been delivered. It burned pleasantly going down, and she cackled. Everything was wonderful!

But Dumbledore, upon his arrival some time later, did not seem to agree.

“Bellatrix!” he gasped, melodramatic as always. “What’s all this?”

“Dumblydore! Happy Halloween!” she declared. Obviously! He would know this if he only had a little chill.

“Where’s the food? Where are the decorations?”

“I’ve started a bonfire,” Bellatrix slurred. “And there are smozz.”

“There are wot?”

“ _Smozz,_ Dumbly. Smosers. Sssssschmoressss.” She waved her wand at the random piles of marshmallows, chocolate bars, and graham crackers on the ground. She had simply ripped open the packages and scattered them as she stumbled around. A solitary table held paper cups with a strange green emblem on them, which were filled with a creamy liquid topped with an orange powder.

“Stop playing with your food!” Dumbledore barked at a gaggle of Muggleborn students, who were haphazardly piling chocolate and marshmallows on top of the crackers. What on earth were they doing?

“Let the night - begin!” Bellatrix declared. She waved her wand and the bonfire burst into flame. A few students who were standing too close screeched as their robes caught fire. Snape scowled as he threw a bucket of sand over them. Another perk of chairing a committee was being allowed to boss the other professors around. Snape was hence duly assigned to bonfire duty.

She threw back another deep draught of Firewhiskey. The flames danced and flickered in her deep brown eyes, and the dancing sparks swirling up into the night sky echoed another night, another fire…

_Burnt out ends of smoky days,_

_The stale cold smell of morning._

_One bonfire dies, another night is over_

_Another day is dawning..._

FLASHBACK

“A gender what?” Bellatrix said scornfully.

“A gender reveal party!” Narcissa cooed. “They’re all the rage now, Bella!”

“What in Merlin’s unholy sock drawer is a gender reveal party?”

“Just an excuse for her to spend my Galleons,” Lucius chimed in mournfully.

“It’s when we find out if this little one will be a boy or girl,” Narcissa said cheerfully, patting her belly. “We’ll have a big party, and invite absolutely everyone. You will help me with the planning, won’t you Bella?”

Lucius looked nervous. “Narcissa,” he said in a loud whisper that nonetheless carried perfectly through the room, “I thought we talked about this. Perhaps it would be best if Bellatrix wasn’t involved. She does tend to get a bit, ahem, carried away at parties. Especially when she’s had, you know…” He mimed throwing back a shot.

Bellatrix was insulted. He thought she would only drink _one_ shot? At an occasion as happy and special as her niece or nephew’s gender reveal party? “Yes, Cissy, I shall help you with the planning!” she declared magnificently, wondering what the hell she would do. Babies and anything surrounding them were not in her wheelhouse. Plus, she was terribly thirsty all of a sudden. If only she could have a nice cool sip of Firewhiskey, she was sure she would think of all kinds of ideas in an instant.

Firewhiskey… _Fire_ whiskey...

SMASH CUT

“So when it comes time for the gender reveal, the flames will turn either blue or pink!” Bellatrix said proudly as Narcissa and Lucius gaped at the roaring blaze currently sitting in the middle of Malfoy Manor’s extensive grounds. Incongruous with the fairy lights, neutral colour palette and Lucius’ white peacocks, the bonfire was stacked as high as the roof of the greenhouse.

“Is that- is that, a-a-an arm?” gasped Lucius.

Yes, stupid man, I don’t look good in pastel colours! So I just added it as a firestarter,” said Bella airily.

Narcissa glanced at her sister. Her foot brushed against something on the ground and she bent to pick it up warily. It was a odd black rectangle, one side shiny with tempered glass. What a strange object, she thought, and then chucked it into the waiting stack of wood. She had heard of a lot of Muggle phones going missing lately. Muggles too. Uber drivers.

But really, she didn't care. She was about to have a baby, which made her more important than anyone else in the world.

_"Conflagratium genderevealus!"_ Bellatrix yelled drunkenly, waving her wand wildly.

She missed the huge, roaring blaze. Instead, Lucius burst into flames.

"BELLA YOU BLIND BAT, I'M ON FIRE! PUT ME OUT!"

"Wait wait!" Bellatrix slurred. "We have to see if the flames turn pink or blue!"

Lucius ran around trying to put the fire out, setting fire to half the garden and its occupants in the process. As wizards and witches of magical high society yelled and rolled around, some rushed into the manor in search of water and began to set the furniture ablaze.

Bellatrix cackled madly as she scampered after Lucius, yelling all the while.

“ _Conflagratium genderevealus! Conflagratium genderevealus! Conflagratium genderevealus!”_

Everytime he managed to snuff the flames out, she would proceed to set him alight once more. The flames however, stubbornly refused to turn either pink or blue.

Hmmmm.

END FLASHBACK

Snape was exhausted and parched from putting out fires - literally, since several more students had caught on fire when Bellatrix missed the actual bonfire with her ignition spell. Merlin, but committee service was the worst. It was so pointless that professors had to serve on them when they had so many other things to do. Plus, he was sure Bellatrix had assigned him the worst duty on purpose, after he had dared make the suggestion that students would perhaps enjoy pumpkin spice lattes at the autumnal event. Snape secretly lived for pumpkin spice lattes, and was never happier than when they were back on the menu at Hogsmeade and - though he would never admit it - Muggle Starbucks.

But…! To his amazement, he caught sight of a solitary table that held paper cups with a strange green emblem on them, which were filled with a creamy liquid topped with an orange powder. His eyes actually filled with tears, which he would not have thought possible given how dehydrated the blaze was making him. Bellatrix had actually taken his suggestion! Sweet, sweet pumpkin spice lattes, his favourite! He ran to the table and guzzled the tallest beverage as fast as he could.

And choked horribly. Because it was not a pumpkin spice latte. If he was not mistaken, it was that wretched, foul, eye-watering American travesty, Lobe-Blaster. Masked with, what, shaving cream? Or something that had been milk foam several hours ago before it had turned in the heat of the fires.

Snape tried to spit the drink out, but he had already swallowed most of it. The alcohol felt like it was boxing his brains, like a cat that had gotten stuck in a grain thresher. He staggered as a memory pummeled him…

FLASHBACK / POSSIBLE HALLUCINATION

“ _Conflagratium genderevealus_!” Bellatrix screeched yet again.

Snape ducked behind a bush that had managed to remain unscathed as Bellatrix continued her rampage, her fury at the deficient spell evident to everyone present at the gender reveal party. The smoke was really starting to irritate his delicate nostrils though, and he began to cough as he watched Bellatrix storm around setting people on fire.

“ _Conflagratium genderevealus! Conflagratium genderevealus! CONFLAGRATIUM GENDEREVEEEEEEEALUS!!_ Eh, wait a minute." Bellatrix paused, then snapped her fingers. "Of course. It's GENDEREVEALUS CONFLAGRATIUM." She often reversed words when she had had a bit to drink - not terribly important in conversation, but a bit more relevant to spellcasting.

Immediately the flames turned a vivid shade of blue. "It's a boy!" Bellatrix crowed.

Narcissa hugged her husband and squealed. "It's a boy, darling!"

"Thank Merlin," Lucius muttered under his breath. "I hated the name Draquina."

But Snape barely heard. Gazing at Bellatrix surrounded by blue the flames, tossing her dark, wild curls about her, with the sapphire firelight gleaming in her obsidian eyes, Snape felt his mouth suddenly go dry, in a way that had nothing to do with impending severe dehydration.

She was beauty, she was grace, she was going to set fire to your face. Snape couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. He was wheezing, gasping, clutching for air.

It’s Bellatrix, he thought. She’s stealing my breath away… The firelight reflected in her dark strands glowed red and gold, and Snape’s last thought before he lost consciousness was that nothing and no one must get between him and Bellatrix, his true love. He would fight anyone who got in his way.

He would absolutely end them.

END FLASHBACK / POSSIBLE HALLUCINATION

“Hurry up Neville!” Draco jeered, as a group of Slytherins loafed behind him. “We want our smores!”

“I’m trying the best I can,” Neville wheezed. He had been bullied into making smores for the Slytherins. But no one had given him any sticks, so he was standing directly by the bonfire, balancing the smores on his outstretched arms. At least the ones he was holding in his hands were melting a little faster.

It was so hot. Neville felt faint. He almost certainly had heatstroke. But he had to keep making these smores...

“Oy, Longbottom!” Draco yelled. “Catch!”

Neville felt something rubbery and slimy with a sharp pointy end hit him in the side of the head. It almost poked out his eye. He felt around on the ground for it, trying to keep as still as possible so as to not drop any of the smores. It was a raw chicken wing.

“Make us wings too while you’re at it!” Draco called. “We want to eat them with ranch dressing! My aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange - and that’s PROFESSOR LESTRANGE to you, Longbottom - told me she had it as an exchange student in America!”

“Right away, Draco,” Neville said miserably, wanting to cry. He knew that chicken wings are the worst thing to have at a barbecue. They are never done, when everyone is hungry, and no matter what they always seem to stay raw inside, meaning food poisoning was inevitable.

He was so hot, so woozy, so thirsty. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a solitary table held paper cups with a strange green emblem on them, which were filled with a creamy liquid topped with an orange powder. Desperately, he shuffled over and dunked his face into a cup directly.

The alcohol hit him at once. Being sorely heat exhausted, and an eleven year-old child, he immediately felt the effects…

As he looked about blurrily, terribly dazed, his eyes fell on… his secret Hogwarts crush. Since the beginning, he had been deeply in love with her, deeper than his conscious mind would allow. But now, in the throes of a life threatening condition that was leaving him thoroughly uninhibited…

He would confess his love for her.

He must.

Shakily, Neville began to weave his way over the crowd of Slytherins. The s’mores were done, and the marshmallows were leaving a sticky residue on his robes.

“Where are my chicken wings?” demanded Draco, stuffing a s’more into his mouth. “And the ranch sauce, don’t forget the ranch sauce! Hey! Crabbe you glutton! I was having Longbottom make that s’more ‘specially for my aunt!” Draco swatted away his friend’s hand and shoved Neville towards the direction of Bellatrix’s shrieks. “Give that to my aunt, and carefully, Longbottom, or she might bite you instead!” He cackled weakly, in a poor imitation of Bellatrix.

Neville stumbled over towards where Bellatrix was chugging something from a bottle. The alcohol itself was nearly catching fire, it was so strong. Did you know that that is the origin of measuring alcohol by its "proof"? Something 100 proof is 100 percent going to catch on fire under certain experimental conditions. What Bellatrix was drinking looked to be about 150 proof.

"P-p-p-professor Lestrange…" Neville burbled.

Bellatrix continued gulping from her bottle. Actually, she had no idea someone was talking to her. Neville, meanwhile, had no idea she wasn't listening. So things were working out.

"I love you," Neville whispered hoarsely, with a sound like a cat being smothered with half a pillowcase.

No one should have been able to hear it over the rest of the noise of the disastrous party.

But Severus Snape heard.

He had ears of love.

And he was not in the mood to tolerate any rivals for his newly discovered true love.

Nor was he in the mood to explain himself.

Without a single word, he charged Neville and headbutted him in a flying tackle. Both were so inebriated and dehydrated that they went down like a pair of old mops with cold rubbery chicken wings stuffed in them. Snape, in a jealous fury, and Neville, in extremely confused self-defense, swatted weakly at each other with as much force as soggy toilet paper. They were lousy at fighting, like two hummingbirds that were also lousy at fighting.

Dumbledore tried to separate them, rolled his ankle, and hopped off howling and whimpering.

“Minerva!” he yowled. “MINERVA! Severus is FIGHTING A STUDENT! HELP MEEEEEEE!”

McGonagall rolled her eyes and Stupefied both Snape and Neville. God, she hated being on the professor-student conflict committee so much. They collapsed in a heap in front of the bonfire. Snape’s robes began to smoke ominously.

Draco, munching on two smores at once, watched the fiery scene. He found the chaos of the flames to be strangely comforting and familiar, though he had no idea why.

And Bellatrix, also without quite knowing why, found herself beginning to sob as she tossed back drink after drink. No, she knew why she was drunkenly crying. No matter how, she found herself weeping over the same question - would true love ever find her?

"Bellatrix," a cold, sexy voice hissed. It was a voice of serpents, of green and silver, of dark arts and darker desires.

She choked. It couldn't be…

"Rodolphus?" she murmured. She had forgotten entirely about him! How silly of her!

"What??!?! No, Bellatrix, you idiot, it's me, Lord Voldemort."

He was back at Hogwarts. Yet again.

“Bella, my best lieutenant… I have a plan…”

Who...!!!! what!!??

a random muggle?


End file.
